


Flames

by notquitejiraiya (lethargicshadowlover)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bickering, Camping, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicshadowlover/pseuds/notquitejiraiya
Summary: She wondered if that’s what he was; a flame teasing at a firework, waiting for it to explode. There was no doubt that she had felt something burning inside her since she’d got here, but blowing up and letting some smartmouth get his way wasn’t something Temari was willing to entertain.
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	Flames

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot is a gift for trubwlsum as part of the Secret Santa gift exchange on the ShikaTema server. I went with the prompt 'Camping'—I hope you like it!
> 
> Merry Christmas to you all! May the new year be kind ❤️

“Shikamaru, snap that stick, would you?”

“Can’t you snap it yourself?”

Over the brim of his book, perched in her spot on the log across the campfire, he could see Ino’s eyebrows raise. “You really expect me to snap it myself?” she huffed. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m trying to build a splint for my arm.” She cleared her throat. “My _injured_ arm, Shikamaru.”

There was a pause as Shikamaru’s eyes briefly drifted down to his book, lingering only a minute on the sentence he’d spent the last half hour pretending to read before they flew back up. The blonde was shaking her head as he relented, losing his page as the book fell to the floor with an unsatisfying thud. Refusing to also lose his cigarettes, he grabbed the stick Ino had pointed to and broke it clean in half across his knee. “You’re a right pain, you know,” he sighed as he hauled himself over to her. “It had to be you, didn’t it?”

“What is that supposed to mean? ” She snatched the two halves and nodded for him to grab the first aid bag at her feet. “Gauze, please, Shikamaru,” she said more gently.

“He has a point,” offered Choji from the mouth of his tent, tugging on his jacket. “You’re the camp medic; you disappearing is the last thing we all need.”

“Both of you are trained in first aid; the kids, and _you,_ will survive without me while I go get it seen to. Hold this while I wrap.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed Shikamaru with her working elbow. “Shikamaru, _hold_.”

With a sigh her distracted friend did as he was told, holding the gauze and sticks in place, but as Ino mouthed a more gentle ‘thank you’ and got to wrapping, she could see the way his eyes crawled to the side, barely staying open. His grip loosened, and only when she cleared her throat did he readjust, giving an apologetic grunt as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ino frowned, taking the cloth in her hands between her teeth and tugging. She tied a secure knot and carefully shrugged herself free from Shikamaru’s half-hearted grip. “You’re not jealous that I get to escape duties for a few hours, are you? Cause if you’re considering breaking your arm, I can’t say I recommend—”

“I’m not jealous, Ino,” he groaned, slumping back against the log as he tore a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. “I’m just tired.”

“You’re always tired.”

A single eyebrow raised as Shikamaru turned to look up at her, smoke between his teeth.

“What?” Ino scoffed. “What’s that look for?”

He couldn’t help laughing as he let his head hang, listening to Choji’s heavy footsteps as he came up beside them. There was a hefty clattering as he fiddled with the pot by the fire and a satisfied slurp to follow, drowning out the serene crackle of the fire. Even after so many summers, Shikamaru still wasn’t sure that he liked it here. He’d assumed that eventually, he’d long for the rustle of leaves or the chirping of birds when the sun crept into the clearing, and to some extent that was true. But, as it stood, the sound of the fire and the comforting voices of his friends was all that kept him sane out here in the middle of nowhere.

In fairness to him, it wasn't like he had any other choice but to be here. He, like Ino and Choji, had agreed with his parents that every summer they would work at the summer camp the three families ran, and in exchange, he’d be left to live the rest of each year as he wished. Even though he was now certain he’d played more Travel Scrabble than any sane twenty-one-year-old should, the deal had served him well over the last few years. Two troublesome weeks making sure children didn’t break their necks was painless enough.

But this year was different.

This year the call of the birds or the hiss of flames couldn’t be heard over the booming voice of the newest counsellor. With every cigarette came a snide remark; every complaint a snapback about ungratefulness. It was exhausting enough without the added bonus that, since one of the tents had been flooded out, he couldn’t hide away until the heat of the sun against his tent grew too unbearable, and instead was forced out into the open before the sun had even peeked through the trees.

Shikamaru was just about ready to voice every complaint rolling through his mind when, like a piercing school bell, a voice shot through the camp, the excitable babble of children following straight after. Being frozen to the bone, and having not slept properly in days, he could do little more than curl his knees up to his chest and groan as, across the clearing, an all-too-familiar face emerged through the trees.

As he watched her through the flames, her blonde hair seemed to set alight as quickly as the frustration bubbled in his stomach. If Shikamaru really cared about the camp as much as he pretended to, one might’ve thought he was jealous of the way the kids crowded her; electrified by her aura and asking a million questions about the bow slung across her back. Meanwhile, their biggest interest in him was when _she_ insulted his bedhead. How they could have so many questions after two hours with her, he couldn’t possibly know—five minutes was enough for his head to start spinning.

Temari slung her gear to the floor and hopped onto a tree stump with a smirk, and Shikamaru couldn’t help noticing the way the wind sent her hair wild as she commanded the children to huddle around her. Bright eyes scanned the camp, catching him for a split second, and instantly he could feel his teeth clench. A large puff of smoke blew through his nose.

“What are you staring at?”

He didn’t move, fixated on her powerful figure gesticulating to no end. “She’s just a bit much, isn’t she, Ino?” he groaned. “Doesn’t _need_ to be so loud, so…”

“So good with the kids? So engaging?” 

“Try calling it ‘ _engaging_ ’ at 5 a.m. The birds aren’t even up then!”

Ino shook her head in his peripheral and hauled herself up. “I shared a tent with her for a week, Shikamaru. I know all about that.”

“And it would still be you suffering if you knew how to put up a tent properly. You’d think after twelve years of this shit you’d be able to at least—ow!” She gave a quick jab at his side with her boot, smirking as he flinched and finally tore his gaze away. “What was that for?”

“For being a whiny little bitch.” Her eyebrows raised as she reached into her pocket for her mobile. “Anyway, you’ve got a car to sleep in if need be,” she added at a whisper, another cheeky jab hitting his side. “So why don’t you stop with the act and admit that you like her?”

“Which shoe would you rather I vomit on, Ino; left or right?”

The blonde didn’t look impressed as she edged closer to Choji. “Are you ready to go?” she asked. “I’m sure you’re as bored of ‘misery guts’ here and his ability to take a joke as I am.”

Shikamaru hoped his friend might’ve defended him, seconded his opinions on the obnoxious voice still booming around the camp. He wrinkled his nose as the indistinguishable chatter of children flooded the camp once more and looked to Choji only to see him splutter with laughter. Out of frustration, he threw his half-finished cigarette into the fire, feeling his stomach flip the moment it left his fingertips.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Choji finally muttered. Shikamaru didn’t look up, simply fishing a knife from his pocket and pointlessly skinning the sticks around the edge of the fire. “You’ll be alright without us for a couple of hours, right?”

All he could muster was a sharp grunt, eyes darting back towards the racket across the clearing.

“Food’s ready when you want it, and the mess tins are in the usual spot.” Choji paused, waiting for Shikamaru to grunt again, and when met with silence he raised a calm hand across the flames. “We’ll see you later, Temari,” he called out. “Ino’s done her arm in and needs it checked. We won’t be long.”

“Oh, you’re not leaving me alone with that _crybaby_ , are you?”

The words pierced Shikamaru’s skull, rattling around endlessly, and with knees curled up to his body he let out an aggravated huff.

“We won’t be too long,” Ino repeated. A kind smile spread across her face as she looked across the smaller, saddened faces. “I won’t be back in time for the nature walk tonight, though; I’m sorry.” She paused for the echo of downcast mumbles to settle before nodding towards the woman behind them. “I’m sure Shikamaru and Temari can take you tomorrow, though, if they have the time.”

Proudly, the blonde hopped down from her stump and nodded, shoulders pushed back as the chatter bubbled up to excitement. Shikamaru’s teeth tugged on his lip as he held back the laughter brewing in his throat. “She doesn’t know the route, Ino. She’ll only be a liability,” he sighed. “Besides, the most she knows about nature is how to skewer it with an arrow.”

“Unless _you_ want to be skewered, Nara, you might want to shut up,” she warned and balled a tight fist as she stepped closer to the fire, to him. He threw one arm back against the log, narrowing his eyes as he flicked his pocket knife. But her glare may as well have blunted the blade as she shook her head in disbelief and pointed to him sharply. “I’m not going with him, Ino.”

“It’s hardly a win for me either, love. You’re making me wish it was _my_ arm in a splint.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

“Can you two put a lid on it for five minutes?” snapped Ino. “You’re supposed to be adults; role models!”

With a gentle nod to the huddle of small faces behind Temari, Ino shook her head a little, and Temari’s accusative finger retracted. The blonde linked her hands in front of her and nodded carefully, eyes lingering on the floor a little too long for Shikamaru not to feel uneasy. He watched as her strong frame fell into the most perfect posture, and a shiver ran up his neck. “Sorry, kids,” she said calmly. “And sorry, Shikamaru. For being _mean_.” Her gaze lifted and lips pursed as she turned back to him, extending her hand. Something dastardly, so undeniably mischievous, lingered in those eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

 _Yes, it will,_ he wanted to say, so why did he find himself reaching out to shake that hand? He saw a smirk slowly creeping across her lips as she gripped his fingertips a little too tightly. The ache didn’t cease when she finally let go, not that Shikamaru noticed that she had; too encaptivated by what cogs might be turning behind those troublesome eyes to look away. It was only when Temari let out a smug snort that he felt himself escape, free from the predatory look in her eyes. But, even then, as his fingers wriggled from their stiff position and wrapped around his pocket knife, he couldn’t explain why she continued to stare at him.

When Ino spoke again, bright and breezy as she waved goodbye to the camp, Shikamaru heard nothing but the jovial warning to the pair still locked on each other. Something strange fell heavy in the air between them, the threat of silence broken only by the unmistakable crack of an engine starting, and Temari’s head whipped around. Ponytails flew, masking her side profile for a split second, but Shikamaru caught a long enough glimpse to feel the pit of his stomach flutter.

Lips parted, eyes widened: a deer in headlights. A single second off guard; a moment worth its weight in gold.

Temari tried to pretend she didn’t feel his eyes boring into her neck, or notice how he averted them the moment she turned back around, attending to the children before she could snap. But feel it, she had, just as intensely as she’d watched those eyes moments before. Deep brown; comforting, knowing, _kind_. For a brief moment, seeing him patiently smile as he handed out mess tin’s to the children, that was the only word she could recall. That’s all she saw on his face when he looked up and smiled at her, throwing her a tin of her own.

There was a gentle thud as it landed in the dust, her reflexes ruined by her focus on him, and Shikamaru started to smirk and chuckle to himself, shaking his head. Suddenly it only took Temari remembering the bitter tone with which he spoke, or the pathetic grunts that were his second language, to make her desperate to push away the feeling of his eyes on her. Her hand flew to her neck as she turned away, rubbing away all she could, as hard as she could.

Even then, the same tingling sensation rippled through her body like a growing flame, fighting to be known as though it wasn't already overwhelming her.

She wondered if that’s what he was; a flame teasing at a firework, waiting for it to explode. There was no doubt that she had felt something burning inside her since she’d got here, but blowing up and letting some smartmouth get his way wasn’t something Temari was willing to entertain.

As she crouched to reach her tin, the heat of the fire slowly melting away her sense and sanity, Temari didn’t stop to think that, across the clearing, he might feel that same warmth—the same frustration—brewing. In her mind, a man like him couldn’t possibly be just as afraid of this foreign sensation as she was; just as nervous to go up in flames.

* * *

The thin barrier wasn’t nearly enough. A single sheet of canvas did nothing to block out the light of her torch, nor the gentle snores when she finally went to sleep; if she ever went to sleep.

Over the last week, Shikamaru had spent the first part of each night with his face buried in his pillow, trying to ignore the incoherent mumbles that crept through the canvas when she rang her family every night. It was her brothers, Ino had told him when he’d finally got too intrigued not to ask, and it was just something she did. He almost envied Ino and her ability to just ask, unsure of what it was that was holding him back.

Maybe it was the fact that, for five minutes each night, her tone was so much softer, as if whoever was down the line mattered. It was nothing like the way she spoke to him—not blunt or abrasive—and he wanted not to care. Shikamaru had always managed not to care before but remembering that moment at the fire, the twisting feeling returned to his stomach. He imagined seeing that voice fall from her lips, parted as they’d been then, and the softened look in her eyes that had disappeared all too quickly.

His body yearned like something he needed—imagination couldn’t cut it—and for the first time, he was desperate to hear her voice again.

That night, he didn’t bury himself in his pillow. On his side, propped up by his elbow and focused on the canvas sheet, he waited.

The torch was on, and his tired eyes carefully traced the shadow of her figure on the canvas. He watched intently until she stretched her arms over her head, every curve of her side profile coming so clearly into view, and he felt his face flush deeply.

His elbow gave way and he turned over, eyes squeezed shut as he fought to forget the shapes he’d seen. Behind his eyes, the torch still shone, tormenting him as he listened to her toss and turn to get comfortable in her sleeping bag. He gulped as quietly as he could, unable to stop his mind sketching out an image he was sure he would never see.

It was but a shadow, smudged charcoal, but every feature felt so vivid. He could see in her face a sense of peace, of longing, and saw her body float with the grace he was sure she hid beneath it all. He almost swore he heard her whisper his name, and every muscle suddenly relaxed in his body as he heard a distinct and irritated sigh.

The light flickered off.

Shikamaru opened his eyes.

There was no rustling, no voice, no light. Not even the soft hiss of breath through the canvas.

Through the darkness, he searched blindly for his watch, sifting through the pile of clothes he threw beside his sleeping bag until finally, he grasped it in his palm. With adjusted eyes, could just about make out the two hands, and suddenly a pit settled in his stomach.

Four-fifty-five.

He had fallen asleep.

Shikamaru sat up, rubbing his eyes to clear away the sleep. He didn’t see the point in lying back down or clinging to another five minutes of rest when she would, no doubt, have an alarm go off any minute. Instead, he pried himself from his bed and began to dress. A chill crept up his spine as he reached for his hoodie. It was colder than most mornings had been, he thought, and for a moment he considered crawling back into his sleeping bag.

But then he saw it—the fluttering of the tent’s door in the breeze, unzipped—and suddenly that chill made him shudder. Nervously, he tugged aside the canvas and scanned across the immaculate setup, but he didn’t notice the meticulous folding or the way her phone and wash bag sat neatly on her pillow. He could only notice that she was gone.

* * *

Temari didn’t know where she was, but she knew that she was cold and she was tired. It had to have been hours since she’d left the camp and the haunting presence of that man choking the air.

She’d spent so long sitting, waiting for him to notice the change in her routine because _of course_ he would notice and _of course_ he would take an interest. Shikamaru, as she understood it, noticed everything. It was one of the things she hated most about him; how no detail slipped past him and his snarky remarks left her painfully aware of it.

Except, tonight, she had wanted him to pay attention and notice how different she’d been acting. On any other occasion, Temari would’ve had no issue to tear down the barrier between them and insist he speak to her, but the issue was, she didn't know what it was she wanted him to say. All she wanted was to see his face, hear his voice, and prove to herself that he wasn’t the kind and somehow beautiful man her brain had been imagining all evening.

For a moment, she thought he would speak. She’d heard a rustle and turned her head, view blocked by that stupid sheet, and listened closely for his voice. She was sure while clambering out of her sleeping bag, clothes still on and lip clenched between her teeth, that he was watching her, and yet when she whispered his name, she was met with silence.

So, in a huff, she had left. She didn’t know where she would go, but she needed to escape. She needed to feel the wind on her skin, the rain if it were to come. She needed to dig her toes into the soil, feel leaves against her fingertips. She needed to pretend that she wasn’t so caught up in her head, in her feelings, that she didn’t notice which way was up.

How far she’d run, how much of a mistake she’d made by signing up for this place, washed away as the wind hit her face, whirling through loose hair and for a moment she was blinded by the beauty of the natural world. The gentle whisper of leaves was warmer, more comforting than the rustle of a sleeping bag. Staring into the unknown, through darkness and looming branches, was infinitely better than a blank canvas.

But, after fighting through ferns, she’d found herself here: atop a hill, looking out over the morning as the sun broke through the trees. When she’d arrived the moon was still fighting to be seen, and her bare feet ached from the uneven ground. She’d sat on this rock and stared at the skyline for so long that she began to remember again; remember the churning of her stomach and the tears threatening to break free from her eyes.

As everything flooded her senses and the night rushed into morning, something moved ahead of her. First, it was just a _crack_ , a twig snapping amongst the silence, but then another, and another. Eventually, she saw a figure creep from between the trees, and time began to slow, more than just back to normal.

Temari wiped her eyes and nose with an already crumpled sleeve, blinking to focus in on what stood before her. The stag raised grazed on the dewy grass, harmless and quiet. He moved with purpose, slowly and surely, as though he knew what he needed and nothing more. Despite his sharp and protruding antlers, Temari couldn’t help feeling safe seeing him so clearly, so near.

Carefully, she tucked her legs into a cross and leaned forwards, watching his movements as though to learn from him. She was in awe of his gentle footsteps, and the way he’d look up after every mouthful until he finally zoned in on her.

From so far away, she could barely see his eyes, but she could imagine them. She felt, somehow, as if she’d seen them before, all too familiar with that scared and powerful look. In someone else, she thought, but even slightly in herself.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Temari expected to jump at the whisper behind her, but her muscles relaxed as she let out a gentle sigh, and she turned her head slightly. “Keep your voice down or you’ll scare him away.” 

She couldn’t see him at first as he came up alongside her, refusing to look away from the creature before her. Slowly, it started to lower its head, and only then did she fully turn to her left.

Shikamaru stared into the distance, shoulders slouched and head cocked slightly to the side. He carefully brought one knee up to his chest, resting his elbow on it to press his chin against his palm. “I’m glad you didn’t bring your bow and arrow on this little adventure,” he chuckled.

“But, I wouldn’t—”

“It’d be a shame for you to have scared him off when you shot me.”

She could see him look down, smiling. It was the sort of weird, dorky grin she was sure she was supposed to hate, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “You’re an idiot,” she whispered, looking back at the stag. He was perfectly still, munching away as though nobody was watching, and she could feel the smile start to fade. “I came out here to get away from you, you know?”

“I guessed as much,” he said, “but you don’t know these woods. I knew you’d get lost.” He paused and she turned, frowning. “Don’t look at me like that, love. I’ve been lost here enough times to know the way home. So many times, honestly, that I didn’t think I could feel lost again.”

“But you do now?” She wasn’t sure she meant to ask, and the moment he nodded, nerves bubbled in her stomach. Her attention turned back to the stag and the wash of yellow and orange carefully painting the horizon. 

“I’m so used to understanding,” he sighed, “that when I don’t, I don’t even bother trying.” She felt him shuffle beside her, a little closer than he’d been before. “It’s too much effort, too troublesome to waste my time on something not immediately obvious. If I’m not smart enough for something as I am, and I don’t _need_ to understand it, then I just won’t think about it.”

The stag’s head darted up, and Temari’s body tensed, but Shikamaru didn’t seem to move.

“But, even though I’m not smart enough for this, and I don’t _need_ this, I’m still thinking about it constantly.”

“Need what?”

She heard the click of his tongue. “You didn’t call your brothers tonight.”

“So, you _did_ notice,” she said, turning back to him slowly.

“Of course I noticed.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Her voice was harsher than she intended, and she shot a quick glance to the forest check she hadn’t been too loud and turned when she saw the stag still poised where she had left him, unchanging. “I thought you’d say something if you noticed. Something smart, something _snide_ —you always say _something_. I _wanted_ you to say something!”

As her hiss dissipated and the silence enveloped them, Shikamaru turned slowly, his palm flush against his neck. She saw those eyes again: the power, the fear, and the gentle kindness she’d tried so hard not to see. “I told you,” he said softly, “I’m not smart enough for this.”

The question asked itself: “For what?”

The fear overcame the power, and his eyes fell to the floor. Despite the quiet, Temari could feel her fuse burning down to its end. The fire he lit with that look in his eyes was too strong. When they flickered up only to turn back to the trees and their company, she felt her throat tighten and the word’s started coming on their own, inexplicably.

“I hated you,” she stated. “You mocked me, you scowled at me, you treated me like an idiot—yeah, I hated you. I was so sure of it that I blamed how confused I was this whole time on that hate—on you.” She took a deep breath, twiddling her thumbs. “But, unfortunately, I don’t hate you, and all it took to realise that was you looking at me for just a second too long. After that, I never wanted you to look at me again, yet all evening, as you told those stories, I waited for your eyes to catch me.”

Slowly, she turned away, and another figure started to emerge from the trees; smaller, more fragile, and yet more alert than the stag. The doe stepped up to him calmly and followed his line of sight towards them for a moment before leaning down. Temari gulped and cleared her throat to continue.

“By the time we were in the tent, my mind was thinking all these _ridiculous_ things—stupid things that I shouldn’t have been thinking of at all let alone constantly. So, I needed it—I needed you to remind me of why I thought I hated you—but you just stayed silent and, for a second, I genuinely did despise you. Because I’ve never felt so small and—”

“Stupid,” interrupted Shikamaru. “I feel small all the time, but you make me feel stupid.”

“But you’re—”

“I like it.” 

Temari didn’t know how to dare fill the silence that followed, and she couldn’t quite pin why it felt like the right thing to do, but the moment she saw the corner of his mouth tug up into a smile she turned back to the deer. Both stood alert now, as scared and confused by the conversation as she felt. Slowly, the doe backed away, out of the light, and into the shadows.

By the time they’d both disappeared into the forest, the quiet had grown stagnant, but Shikamaru couldn’t take his eyes off of her. How he hadn’t turned and run was beyond him, but that would be far too sensible a move for a man as consumed as he was. When she finally twisted her body to see Shikamaru still focused on her, her green eyes reflected the sunrise as if they brought it to life. It suddenly seemed the only true way to watch such a spectacle.

But then she looked down, twiddling her thumbs as her shoulders slumped for the first time since he’d met her. “I’m sorry,” he said solemnly, eyes falling to watch her fingers thread together. “I’ll sleep in my car from now on. I should have this whole time. It was weird of me not to—”

“Don’t you dare.”

His eyes shot up to see a cheeky smile begin to cross her face, and suddenly it didn’t matter to him that she might see the bloodshot nature of his eyes. She reached out to grab the hand cradling his neck and her fingertips caught the hairs on the back of his neck. He shuddered, blushing, and she laughed in the most comforting way. He never wanted her to stop.

"You're insane if you really want this," he chuckled. That mischievous glint was back as she began smirking and clambering to her feet, begging him to keep smiling. Behind her, the sunrise swelled with the most dangerous of colours; a phoenix in flames. "You'd be an idiot."

"Then that makes two of us."

The sun seemed to retreat as Temari smiled wider.

 _This_ was a moment worth its weight in gold.

“Come on, idiot,” she said, tugging on his hand. “Show _this_ idiot the way.”


End file.
